FICTION: Instant Messaging and Its Consequences,
by lbc
Summary: Part one deals with House and Wilson sending instant messages to each other while House is at a convention. Chapter 3 concludes story. House indicates his displeasure with Wilson. Slash.
1. Chapter 2

Title: Instant Messaging and Its Consequences (2a/2)

By: lbc

Pairing: House/Wilson

Words: 2240

Rating: for mature adults

Genre: slash in part 2b

Summary: House is upset over Wilson's instant message.

Note: Parts 2a and 2b complete the story. Sorry part 2a got a bit long.

"You know; it's been pretty nice without House here, hasn't it? Dr. Wilson sure is easier to get along with."

"Dr. House is in pain; he makes us think; have you got something against that?"

"Jeez, sorry. Some days you remind me of him, but seriously I wonder how Foreman's held up being with House for the last four days?"

Allison Cameron turned to stare directly at the blond Aussie, "Do you know how immature you are sometimes? Dr. Foreman does his job and is very good at it. That's all I care about; why are you so nosy?"

"Nosy? Look who's talking about nosy, wanting to know everything about the life of House? Give me a break!"

"Oh grow up; he's our boss, we should be concerned."

"Well, if you want to be concerned; be concerned about us; House is going to be back soon and then what?"

Just then, Doctors Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson passed by the area where the ducklings nested when they were away from House's radar. Chase nodded his head towards the two, "Speaking of concern, what do you think those two have been talking about considering all the time they've been spending together?"

"Well, Dr. Nosy, maybe the budget is up for review or something. After all Dr. Wilson is the Head of Oncology; maybe he's has to submit his reports or something."

Chase leered knowingly, "Yeah, well maybe he's submitting something else. After all he's good looking, and Cuddy isn't too much older than he is, AND he's divorced!"

"Dr. Chase; you can be a real idiot. You know Dr. Cuddy mentioned the recognition dinner to review this year's achievements. Maybe Dr. Wilson is helping her to coordinate that program?"

As Allison Cameron walked away, Chase said, "Yeah, you don't fool me, if Wilson's got another interest that leaves House free for your clutches!"

Alison Cameron kept on walking so she did not see her boss limp into his office with his shoulders slouched. He had been in a bad mood since he had received Wilson's last e-mail, and now overhearing about Wilson and Cuddy's frequent meetings did not make him feel any better. No wonder Cuddy had sent him off to that stupid conference to give a few lectures. It was a good way of getting him out of her hair while she had her wicked way with James Wilson, who had just gone through another rough divorce and really didn't need Cuddy pawing all over him.

House picked up his report that was over 50 pages long. After all, if he had to go to that conference, he was going to pay Cuddy back by making her read all that drivel about what had occurred. As House limped towards Cuddy's office, he never stopped once to question why he was so worried about Wilson or why he was placing the entire blame for the "seduction" of James Wilson on Lisa Cuddy and not admit that James Wilson was a big boy now and could certainly fend off any female that he was not interested in.

Bursting into Cuddy's office as he often did, House was prepared to throw the report on Cuddy's desk and promptly depart, but this time, he stopped . . . he stopped because James Wilson and Lisa Cuddy were sitting side by side behind her desk, practically cheek to cheek. The fact that they were looking at some paper or other scarcely mattered - - the two were practically giving each other Louisiana Lip Locks or something of an intimate nature.

House gave them one of his more lascivious smirks and oozed, "Well, isn't this a cozy scene! I spend the last four days informing the medical populace about the virtues of good diagnostics, and I return to find you two playing doctor. Really, couldn't you two wait? Here's my report. I'm sure you'll want to SHARE that as well. Meanwhile, I have clinic duty."

At that point House turned and limped out of Cuddy's office, failing to notice the surprised looks on the two people's faces.

"Well, what brought that on?"

"Hard telling with House. Maybe the conference didn't go as well as he led me to believe or maybe his leg's hurting."

"Well, let's just hope he's not as snarky tomorrow evening. You know there will be a lot of important people there. You will try to get him into a neat suit, won't you?"

"Yeah, well that may take some doing, but I'll get him there, dressed appropriately even if I have to tie him up and drag him there."

"Good, I think everything else has been arranged. Thank goodness, you thought of sending him to that Conference. It made it easier to get things done. The ducklings didn't question anything, did they?"

"No, they seemed distracted so I didn't try to enlist their help; just let them know that they were to be there."

Lisa Cuddy looked at the huge report and after leafing through it replied, "Heavens, I think he thinks I'm going to read all this. Talk about getting revenge."

As Wilson walked out of her office, he laughed. "That's House all over - - he loves to get revenge!" As James Wilson uttered those words, he had no idea how true they would become.

Eric Foreman had arrived at his usual time, but he had managed to remain hidden for approximately half an hour. The extra baggage that seemed to get mixed in with his job always bothered him. Being away from the less than relevant thoughts of Cameron and Chase had been a vacation, but when Greg House's temper had roared into high gear, Foreman had taken to the hills . . . well, the hills in this case were really every lecture . . . no matter how boring . . . that was on the agenda for the Conference. He had heard about medical procedures for hours _ad infinitum_, but it had kept him away from Greg House and his sarcasm that dripped with pent-up anger.

Foreman shook his head as he realized that House had actually been "almost human" until near the end of the conference. Foreman had tried to keep in contact with the hospital and his colleagues throughout the four days so he knew nothing had happened there. What had gone wrong? He refused to accept that House was any more irritable because of his leg. What could it have been?

At that moment, Foreman ran into his two colleagues. As usual their immature bantering totally repelled him - - being six years their elder he could not believe that he had ever acted like that, but they were a source for news . . . maybe, just maybe they would know something about House's most recent mood.

"Foreman, what are you doing here?"

Foreman scrunched up his face as if Chase's IQ had dropped to single digits and replied with a tone, reminiscent of House, "I believe I'm doing my fellowship here, duh!"

"That's not what I meant; we didn't know you were back; why didn't you e-mail us that you were returning?"

"Why should I? Were you doing something that you shouldn't have been?"

Cameron's eyes opened wide at the mere thought of her doing such a thing, but she turned to Robert Chase with a glare that spoke her thoughts. When she didn't say anything, Foreman ignored all the baggage and got right to the point.

"Did anything happen while we were gone? House was really in a bad mood the last day or so."

Both ducklings shook their head. "No, can't think of anything. Maybe he heard about the recognition dinner tomorrow night."

"What recognition dinner?"

"Apparently, the Board has decided to give a 'small' dinner to recognize the achievements of PPTH for this year. They felt that they had to do something to sort of overcome the loss of $100,000,000 when Vogler said _adios_. So that's what they're doing. Nothing big, just pat-our-own-backs time."

"Oh great, no wonder House is mad if he knows about that."

The three ducklings separated, in preparation for running the gauntlet of the return of House, but, in fact, no one saw the caustic diagnostician after his clinic hours. It was only late in the evening that James Wilson tracked down his friend, in that most extraordinary of places: the darkened MRI lab.

"What are you doing here?"

Wilson really couldn't see the blue eyes well, but he knew they were glaring at him. "Trying to avoid people, especially certain . . . doctors, get the idea?"

Wilson shrugged and tried to pass off the chronic sarcasm. "Sounds like a good idea especially after your attitude. I don't know what's got you goin', but I was asked to find you and tell you that Cuddy would like to see you."

"Well, thanks a bunch. I'll bet she would like to see you a lot more, or maybe she's already seen a lot of you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look, Wilson, far be it from me to lecture you on your own life, but she is your boss and it might be smart to stay away from her . . . at least, until your divorce papers cool. Sleeping with the boss isn't a good way to keep your job even though it is a way to get the job, in the first place."

"Are you trying to say that I'm sleeping with Cuddy?"

"Oh give me a break; I don't care who you sleep with, but you've made three bad choices with three females who you've slept with and God knows how many others. Wake up, Wilson. Cuddy switched sides to keep Vogler's millions, do you really want to keep your job, just by keeping her bed warm?"

"What a hypocrite you are, House. You slept with Cuddy, and she was your boss."

"Oh yeah, bring up the orgy again. Lisa Cuddy was grateful for my attention, and, at least, she wasn't an older woman, and I wasn't married!"

James Wilson's brown eyes were full of fury; his hands clinched in fists as he made one step forward then stopped. He straightened himself and in a voice as cold and normal as he could make it, he replied, "You're right about one thing, House, and only one thing. I have made some bad choices in the people I've slept with, but the worst choice I ever made was sleeping with you. You talk about me sleeping with older women. How about you seducing an 18 year old boy?"

With those words, James Wilson whirled around and went out the door. He rushed down the corridor, barely thinking. By the time he got to the entrance to the hospital, he had cooled down enough to think. He was panting as if hyperventilating. In the many confrontations that he had had with House over the years, none had ever hurt so much. After a minute or two, Wilson managed to control his emotions. He took the elevator to the Administration floor and knocked on Lisa Cuddy's door. The Administrator immediately admitted him.

"I . . . I can't get House to wear his suit. I . . . can't even stand to face him anymore. You'll have to get someone else to do the recognition tomorrow night. I'm . . . not even sure if I'll show up."

Looking totally beaten the younger doctor turned and walked to the door. "James?"

Wilson turned and stared, saying nothing. Cuddy asked quietly, "What happened?"

"He . . . he . . . " Clinching his hands turned and walked out of Cuddy's office.

After a short amount of time, Lisa Cuddy found Greg House's refuge in the MRI lab. She was furious but held her fury even when House looked up from his forlorn vigil on a chair in the lab. "Well, he ran right to you to cry about what I said, did he? You two must really be close."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Dr. Wilson said nothing to me, but I gather that something happened; he was upset."

"Well, don't you worry; I'm sure you can comfort him."

"Dr. House, I am not going to discuss this now. You will be in the cafeteria of this hospital tomorrow night at 7:00. You will be dressed in your best suit; whatever that may look like, and you will be civil to everyone. I will not ask you to speak on the accomplishments of the Diagnostics Department if you wish to designate one of your assistants, but you will be there."

House began to open his mouth, but Cuddy continued, "I will not hear any remarks now. Thursday morning you will report to my office at 8:00 am so that we can discuss your . . . behavior as well as the report you have submitted. Your schedule for tomorrow has been altered. When you arrive tomorrow, please check the assignment board."

With supreme dignity, the 5'6" woman whirled and left the large cavernous room and the badly battered figure of Greg House.

End of part 2a


	2. Chapter 3

Title: Instant Messaging and Its Consequences (2b/2)

By: lbc

Pairing: House/Wilson

Rating: For mature adults

Genre: slash

Words: 3882

Notes: This completes the mainline story.

Summary: House gets recognition.

Allison Cameron was on top of the world. It was strange how things could go from down-right ugly to wonderful in the space of a few hours. It had been an absolutely horrible day for the Diagnostics Department at PPTH. The head of the department had been in a formidable, tour de force bad attitude since he had arrived that morning. His work schedule had been filled with hour after hour of clinic, and his three assistants had been assigned other jobs so that the scruffy faced doctor could not employ them as substitutes.

In addition, there had been no "special" cases that needed House's brand of bedside manner from afar so the day had gotten longer and longer. Even more strange, Dr. House had not sought out the refuge of his best friend's company to alleviate some of his less- than-charming presence from almost overwhelming one and all.

Then . . . then, a miracle had occurred. Dr. Gregory House, world famous diagnostician and Monster Machines' lover had asked Allison Cameron for a date! Well, not really a date, but he had asked to be her escort to the get-together in the hospital cafeteria to recognize the achievements of the past year.

Allison Cameron had had two . . . two dates with the handsome doctor, and now she was to have another one. She knew just the dress that she was going to wear. She spent the rest of the day in ecstasy, pushing away any consideration of the question: why wasn't House going with Dr. James Wilson?

For Dr. Greg House, it had been a hell of a day and worse. He was still seething from Cuddy pulling rank on him and insisting on him attending the little shindig that was planned for the cafeteria. Why didn't they have it in some high school's cafeteria - - that surely would have been even more chic?

In truth, however, Greg House was really seething over something far more personal and intimate - - James Wilson had betrayed him . . . and with Cuddy. It didn't make a difference if House had slept with both of them - - not at the same time or even the same decade, of course, but James Wilson had chosen . . . that woman . . . over Gregory House, best friend and world famous sarcasm wizard. Well, they would get what was coming to them!

So what if House would be rapped over the hands at 8:00 tomorrow morning . . . James Wilson was sleeping with Cuddy, and he was just divorced . . . for the third time!

Talking to himself, House mumbled, "Boy, wait 'til they see me with Cameron tonight! Be civil . . . be civil! I'll be so charming; it will be like molasses poured over the whole hypocritical crowd."

And so it came to pass, Alison Cameron was attractive; Greg House was handsome in his very neat suit, and when the two entered the much decorated cafeteria later that night, all eyes turned toward them. They were escorted to their table where the rest of the ducklings finally appeared, but as House surreptitiously glanced around the room, he could not find the one person that he truly wanted to see.

The evening, surprisingly, went well and quickly. Each department and group of personnel who had been designated speaking time, spoke well and proudly of their achievements. The only department that seemed to be ignored was the field of Diagnostics. It was true that the Head of Oncology had not risen to give an overview of the department's year, but the substitute had done well.

It was obviously near the end of the program when Dr. Lisa Cuddy took the podium. She was dressed elegantly in a dark burgundy gown with matching jewellery. She smiled and, seemingly without any prompts, began to speak:

"You might have noticed that one department has not had a chance to tell of its achievements; that is because we have taken this opportunity to give it special recognition and certainly its department head deserves our appreciation."

Cuddy looked directly at where House was sitting and smiled slightly before continuing.

"Approximately one year ago, Dr. Gregory House wrote a paper called, "Good Diagnostics, The Best Weapon A Doctor Has." Many of the staff here at Princeton-Plainsboro realized that it was an extraordinary paper. The Board discussed ways to use this paper to further the cause of better medicine. Recently Doctor House was sent to a conference where he delivered an abbreviated version of this paper. It goes without saying that it was well received.

Brief applause occurred at this point, but Cuddy continued, "It is my great pleasure to announce that Dr. House has been recognized by a division of the American Medical Association for his work on this paper and his department's remarkable achievement in the field of diagnostic medicine. Every doctor wants to save lives, but this past year Dr. House and his team have contributed to the diagnosing of over 100 patients who were deemed "special cases". Many of those patients are now living lives free of the medical problem that brought them to this hospital."

"The American Medical Association does not hand out this type of recognition every day. Approximately eight months ago, Dr. James Wilson came to me with a request that Dr. House's paper be brought to the AMA's attention. After readily agreeing, Dr. Wilson carried forth with this project with a steadfast dedication, the results you see tonight.

I would like Dr. Gregory House to come forward to receive the certificate and letter of recognition that the American Medical Association has sent in recognition of Dr. House's paper."

For a moment there was complete silence then as House stood, the applause became thunderous. The walk was short in distance but long in acclaim. Finally, House made it to the platform, obviously flustered and uneasy.

He stood for a moment, looking over the crowd, looking for the one individual who meant everything to him, but he wasn't in sight. He could see the ducklings applauding, especially Allison Cameron. She was practically bouncing up and down.

He looked at Cuddy who shook his hand and handed him the letter and certificate then moved back.

Finally, House found his voice as the applause quieted, "Thank you. Those of you who have heard my other speeches know that I have a tendency towards sarcasm." Here a brief wave of laughter broke out. "I'd like to thank the board for this get together and, of course, Dr. Cuddy for her support. I really believe that every doctor can do more, and I hope my paper can help in some way to open new paths for all of us."

House wiped his forehead; his leg beginning to ache. Then in a hoarse voice with incredibly sad eyes, he continued, "I'd also like to thank Dr. James Wilson for his efforts to get this paper some recognition, and for putting up with me all these years. Thank you."

Swaying slightly, House stepped down from the platform and headed towards the ducklings, shaking hands on the way. The evening wrapped up swiftly after that. There were a considerable amount of people wanting to shake hands, but Lisa Cuddy carefully maneuvered them past the recipient rather quickly. Finally, near the end of the receiving line, Greg House heard the voice that he had been longing to hear all evening,

"Dr. House, congratulations, thank you for the nice words, but you deserve the praise - - after all you wrote it." With a nod, James Wilson walked past and out into the night.

House said nothing. It was all too obvious that he was in pain, but whether it was his leg or his soul was very hard to tell. Lisa Cuddy managed to cut short any further greetings so that Cameron and House were on the road within a few minutes. House felt sterile, devastated as if he couldn't feel. He barely heard Allison Cameron, asking him if he would like to come up for a cup of coffee. He almost didn't wait for her to shut the car door before pulling away.

Wilson wasn't home. House drove by there and then tried calling . . . nothing. It was an incredibly long night, but Greg House was in Cuddy's office at exactly 8:00 am.

"Dr. House, I asked you to come here to discuss your report. I've read it; even though I'm sure you thought I wouldn't. It's excellent. I do have some questions, but I'll prepare them in written form and then we'll discuss them later."

Cuddy waited for House to say something, but the man only looked at her with his sad blue eyes.

"I want to add my personal congratulations about your paper. I know you think that I'm only interested in the PR that this kind of thing can bring us, but I am very proud of this as you should be."

House merely nodded his head, saying nothing.

"Now, as much as you deserve praise for your paper and your work in your department, I feel that something has to be said about . . . your accusations."

"Where's James Wilson?"

Cuddy looked vaguely mystified, but answered, "He's asked for a leave of absence, and I granted it."

Although House didn't show it, he felt as if his heart had just gone through a car crusher. "When?"

"I don't understand."

Expecting a sarcastic answer, Lisa Cuddy waited and was surprised when sarcasm failed to appear. "When did Wilson ask for the leave?"

"It was sometime late yesterday afternoon . . . after he spoke to you."

Suddenly House's face seemed to crumble then Cuddy could see him fighting for control. "Did you talk about me . . . and you?"

"Doctor, I have long known about you and Dr. Wilson when you were younger." Reading House's look of indignation and surprise, Cuddy hurried on, "And no, Dr. Wilson did not tell me. You did."

House's left eyebrow shot up in disbelief, but he held his voice.

"Of course, you didn't know you did, but when you were coming out of the chemically induced sedation, you said . . . some things. It became obvious what kind of relationship you two had."

With the first hint of cynicism that Cuddy had heard that morning, House queried, "Is that why you told him about . . . us?"

"All right, it wasn't very professional, but it was perfectly innocent. It was after you had had the week without Vicodin. Dr. Wilson came to me because he was worried about the effects of such abstinence on your health. We got to talking about you and some of the incidents that occurred as you were recovering. Wilson's face took on a look that I had never seen him have before. He was talking about you with such affection. He mentioned how you two met, and I guess, I just sort of blurted it out by asking him if you slept together. He wasn't ashamed of your intimacy, and as we talked I did him the courtesy of not denying our few times together. That's all it was."

"You aren't sleeping together, are you?"

"Doctor House, I don't have to answer that, but I will - - no, definitely not. Dr. Wilson is a remarkable man who cares a great deal about you. I don't know what you said to each other; he wouldn't say, but whatever hurt you've felt is nothing to what he's feeling. Now, Doctor, I hope that ends this kind of behavior on your part. I feel some statement must be made about such accusations so you will serve an extra 10 hours of clinic duty for the next month, and you will be suspended for the next 3 days."

House's head shot up in amazement, but he rapidly changed his belligerence as Cuddy continued with, "And I sincerely hope that you find something important to do with all your free time."

The visual image of James Wilson on leave suddenly popped to mind. Indeed, he would probably need three days and maybe more to repair the mess that he had created this time.

HWHWHWHWHWHW

Greg House pounded on Wilson's door for what seemed like the thousandth time and still no answer. He knew that Wilson was in there. He FELT that Wilson was in there. House leaned his forehead against the door, trying to decide what to do. He couldn't really blame Wilson for not wanting to talk to him, but his Jamie had never refused to talk to him before.

Finally, a small slip of paper appeared under the door. House reached over and picked it up, it read:

IF YOU'RE READING THIS, YOU MUST BE A MORON. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU.

Signed, The Man Who Is NOT Sleeping With Cuddy

Despite himself, House smiled. That was his Jamie - - God, how he loved the man. Why hadn't he told him that instead of ranting and raving and letting his jealousy get the better of him?

Finally, the door opened a tad and one brown eye stared out, as if checking to see if the unwelcome visitor had gotten the hint. A tiny moan was heard before the door opened completely to show a fairly disheveled James Wilson.

"Can't you take a hint? Read my lips, House, I don't want to talk to you. My feelings right now are about one inch shy of punching you in the mouth, so go away!"

Instead of following this very sensible advice, House continued to lean there with his blue hound dog eyes messaging his unhappiness. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted you to know. You know you're too good to be my friend. I malign you and take advantage of you. I take you for granted, and you always come back for more. I have never understood why you've put up with me. I don't deserve you. You're smart to dump me."

"Well, you've got that all right, House."

The sad eyes got sadder. House nodded his head in agreement. "I'll leave; I just wanted you to know that I love you."

With those words House began to turn around but stopped when Wilson asked, in a somewhat hesitant voice, "What are you doing here? I mean, why are you here now; shouldn't you be at the hospital on clinic duty?"

House stopped, partially turning, "I've been suspended for my remarks. Frankly, I'm surprised Cuddy didn't do it a long time ago."

Wilson stepped forward, enraged, "SUSPENDED? What'd she do that for? It was a personal attack; I can't believe it. You've said a lot worse. You aren't going to take that, are you?"

Now, House turned and looked fully at his friend. "I thought it was a good idea. You're on a leave of absence and I'm suspended for three days; I hoped that we could use the time to talk . . ."

Suddenly Wilson backed up, looking very suspicious. "Talk . . . just talk?"

Blue eyes looking less sad continued to stare, "Yeah, don't you think we need to?"

"Yeah, well . . . maybe," Wilson made the first move back into the door and open it further for the injured man to gain entrance, but just as House was starting to cross the threshold, Wilson began to close the door more, using his body to block the door.

"Just a minute, I just remembered; I'm MAD at you. You don't get away with saying that I'm sleeping with Cuddy, and to top it off that I've made lousy choices in wives . . ." Wilson stopped for a minute; his face blushing faintly and a puzzled wrinkle appearing between his brown eyes. "Hey, wait a minute, did you say you loved me?"

"Well, so much for intelligent design, my dear doctor Wilson. I would have thought my snide remarks, and my uncouth behavior, let alone my raging jealousy would have all been clues . . . and then my asinine attempt at showing off my 'I-don't-care-policy' of bringing Cameron with me to the get-together should have been enough hints."

House stopped there, totally out of breath and waiting . . . waiting for the axe to fall. Instead, James Wilson stood there while his face softened as the affection he normally showed his scruffy-faced friend, reappeared. "Well, I guess you better come in then." Wilson stopped abruptly as he was opening the door again and whirled, "This doesn't mean that I've forgiven you, but I am willing to . . . talk."

House nodded quietly and limped into the room. Finding the chair that Wilson kept especially for him, but never advertised it as that, he collapsed in it, gratefully accepting a can of beer. After Wilson took a seat on the sofa nearby, House studied his friend for a moment before saying, "You look tired. Would you be willing to let me buy us some delivery?"

Dark brown eyes studied House; then Wilson shook his head. "You don't get out of it as easily as that. "What did Cuddy say . . . about your suspension?"

House rubbed his forehead as he took out his Vicodin bottle and popped one pill in his mouth. "Pretty much what you'd expect. She was angry but kept her temper better than I did. She explained why she told you about our hopping in bed. I guess I called your name a lot when I was sedated. I needed you so bad. I'm glad you two were able to . . . talk. That's something I've never been able to do that with anybody, but Stacy . . . and you." House smiled grimly but continued on, "Well, you know how that worked out with Stacy, but I haven't . . . until now, that is . . . really talked about things with you."

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt?"

The scruffy faced man shook his head in frustration, "My name is House, but it should be castle or fortress or something like that. You've met my parents. If your own parents were disappointed in you plus you were a cripple, what do you think I would feel about other people? You know my parents - - you're the son they would love to have - - not some misfit, square peg in a round hole."

James Wilson smiled in fond remembrance of the first time that he had met House's parents. It was too bad he couldn't get his friend to see himself the way that House's parents saw their son. As House lay dying due to the infarction, they insisted on spending all their time there, until James Wilson arrived. Then . . . they left to return on a more normal schedule. James Wilson's badly bruised heart still remembered the words that had given him such hope. "James, you know how much we love Greg, but you're the one who should be with him now. He needs the one who loves him best, if he's not to leave us."

Blythe House had kissed James Wilson on the cheek, just as she had done her son, but it was John House's firm handshake and sweet words as he left that revived Wilson's spirit."

If only House could have heard those words.

Wilson broke out of his reverie to stare at his friend. He smiled, "Your parents love and adore the son they've got. I'm no prize as my wives will gladly attest. You expected Stacy to trust your judgment and go along with your wishes; she didn't but saved your life. She should have told you her thoughts. Trust is one of the most fragile things in the universe. It's especially difficult if you put a person up a pedestal and expect them not to waver and fall off. None of us are superhuman or divine. I know I've disappointed you many times. I know that when I married Julie, it hurt you, but I needed something . . . someone. I guess I took it one step further than you did when you flaunted Cameron in my face."

Wilson, thinking for a moment. "I wanted to be in the forefront when Cuddy called your name for the recognition. You deserve all the praise and every honor. You're a genius, Greg House, even if you are flawed . . . as we all are. Cameron is fighting a losing battle to want to fix you. You are broken, but I wouldn't change you for a million dollars . . . well, two million maybe, if Julie's alimony demands go through."

Wilson stood up and walked the few steps over to where House sat. A tiny smile peeked out on the handsome mouth. "Thank you for telling me that you love me. I needed to hear that so badly. I guess . . . I hope that you need to hear the same. Greg House, I love you, and I have ever since you walked into a certain room and propositioned me into your bed. I didn't mean what I said about that being a bad choice; it was the best thing that I ever did."

Carefully and hesitantly, James Wilson held out his hand to his friend. House smiled, his eyes slightly dreamy as the effects of the Vicodin began to make itself felt. House reached forward, unashamedly using Wilson's strength to lever himself out of the chair. The two men stood breast to breast. After a moment, their lips met in a gentle kiss.

After their breath gave out the two men moved apart, but as James Wilson started to step back, his friend moved closer pulling the younger man to him as if House was fearful of any distance between them. Leaning his head on Wilson's forehead, the older man asked, "How come you sent in the paper; you know I don't need that."

James Wilson smiled sweetly, giving his friend a quick kiss on the cheek. He drew back just slightly to look affectionately at House. "You might not need that because you're safe behind your knowledge that you're a certified genius, but we, who love you, need to see other people recognizing that genius. 8 months ago we were coming into a really rough time of our lives with Vogler. Cuddy told you that you weren't worth $100,000,000, but she was wrong. To me, to those who love you and all those patients you've helped, you're priceless."

Moisture appeared in Greg House's blue eyes; he clasped James Wilson hand tightly, giving the palm a tender kiss. In an emotionally charged voice, House whispered, "Thanks, now help me into the bedroom so you can tell me about your plans for our leave of absence."

James Wilson winked as he put his arm around the older doctor's waist. "You bet. Wait 'til you see what I've got planned."

Might post short epilogue about the leave of absence.


End file.
